


A Gift

by elisa_pie



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Post-Star Trek Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisa_pie/pseuds/elisa_pie
Summary: Leonard McCoy gets a gift from Spock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little Spones fic I wrote a while ago after seeing Star Trek Beyond.

“I’m glad he doesn’t respect me,” McCoy says. As soon as the words are out of his mouth he remembers what Spock had said just before they were beamed aboard the Franklin. _Oh shit_ , he thinks. 

This is going to come back and bite him in the ass, that’s for sure.

*

When they continue on their mission on the new, shiny Enterprise, McCoy has the rare chance to enjoy a completely quiet med bay before the inevitable injuries and illnesses start piling up. It’s during one of those quiet moments that Spock comes into McCoy’s office after his shift, holding his hands behind his back.

“Good evening, Doctor.”

“What do you want, Spock?” McCoy asks, slightly annoyed at the interruption. It’s not like he was in the middle of doing anything important--his shift has just ended too--but it’s not like Spock is injured or anything either.

One eyebrow rises slightly. “Is it customary for you to greet your patients in such a manner?”

“Doesn’t look like you’re in need of medical attention, Spock.”

“Indeed I am not,” Spock says, shifting his stance slightly. “However, I wished to give you this,” he continues, putting a small metal box down on the desk between them.

“What the hell-” McCoy starts.

“I understand that humans place a greater value on gift-giving than Vulcans do. Therefore, as a signal of my gratitude for saving my life on Altamid, and the closer bond I believe we share after the events on that planet, I am gifting you this-”

“A pen?” McCoy interrupts, having opened the metal container and taken out the item. “You’re giving me a pen?”

Spock frowns, looking at the pen as if searching for something. “An antique pen, yes. Is the gift not to your liking, Leonard? I was under the impression that humans place great sentimental value on such objects, although they serve no purpose today and have long since been replaced by other, more practical objects. I had thought that a pen, such as this, in particular-”

“Yeah, yeah, Spock, I really appreciate it,” McCoy says, standing up and putting the pen back in its metal case, distracted by the oddness of Spock calling him by his first name, not to mention receiving a gift from Spock. A pretty nice, probably expensive gift, no less. 

“It’s… well, it’s beautiful, actually,” McCoy says and looks at Spock, careful to say the next words like he actually means them. To his surprise, he really does. “Thank you, Spock.”

Spock inclines his head. “You are welcome, Leonard. I hope that this gift will convey my gratitude and respect for you.”

“Respect,” McCoy repeats under his breath when Spock turns to leave his office. “Now wait just a goddamn moment…” he continues more loudly.

Spock turns back around to face him. “Yes, Leonard?”

“You’re telling me this pen is a sign of your respect and affection? Like that necklace you gave Uhura? Before you guys broke up?”

Spock shifts, the movement so slight McCoy wouldn’t have noticed it unless he was watching Spock carefully, looking for a sign that he’s read this whole thing horribly wrong.

Spock is quiet for a long moment until he says simply, “Yes.”

“You gave me a pen because you like me,” McCoy says, hardly able to believe the words or the fact that he has just said them out loud, to Spock. He hasn’t ruled out the chance that he’s imagining all of this because of exhaustion or some weird alien bug, even though they haven’t visited any new planets since leaving Yorktown and he definitely got enough rest before their departure.

“Those are your words, Doctor, not mine,” Spock says quickly. “As a Vulcan-”

“Oh, it’s back to Doctor now, is it?” McCoy says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And don’t tell me you feel nothing because you’re half-Vulcan. I know damn well that isn’t true. Not to mention you basically just confessed to having feelings for--for me,” McCoy finishes lamely.

Spock’s cheeks are turning a rather appealing shade of green as he looks away. “I must admit I regret that I did not forgo this plan although I suspected you might not react favourably.”

Which McCoy takes to be Spock-speak for _I knew I shouldn’t have done this_. And now he’s starting to feel like an asshole, but this is too good a chance to pass to tease Spock.

“There better not be some radioactive Vulcan mineral in that pen. And if you wanted to track me, I really don’t think I’m gonna be carrying this thing around with me, so that’d just be useless,” McCoy says.

“That was not my intention, Leonard,” Spock says softly. “I merely wanted to… to express my…”

McCoy walks around the desk to face Spock, who seems to be at a loss for words for once. Sure, he could tease Spock further about this, about his inability to handle and express his emotions, but something in the way Spock has been acting since he came in makes McCoy want to… He’s not sure what, exactly. Spock is looking straight at him, his eyes dark and unreadable. McCoy takes a step closer, their faces now inches apart.

“What do you want, Spock?” he whispers, some unnamed emotion squeezing his heart as Spock continues staring at him, looking lost and vulnerable. McCoy still remembers what Spock’s face felt like under his fingers as he was trying to wake him up in the cave. He’s been thinking about that a lot, he realises suddenly. He wants-

Spock kisses him. One moment he’s looking into McCoy’s eyes, the next he’s leaning closer and their lips are touching. McCoy’s head is spinning. He’s too stunned to do anything, overwhelmed by the warmth and smell of Spock, the lips gently sliding against his own, the warm, strong hand on his neck. 

When Spock’s thumb moves to caress his jaw, McCoy finally moves and puts his hands on Spock’s shoulders. He can feel Spock tensing under the touch, as if he’s bracing himself for being pushed away. McCoy just holds on tighter and kisses back, opening his mouth and feeling Spock’s tongue searching for his own.

He only breaks off the kiss when he needs to breathe, opening his eyes to look at Spock. There are many things he should be saying, or could say, but none of them seem to make their way from his brain to his mouth, which he’s pretty sure is hanging open.

“If I had known this was an effective method of, as your human saying goes, “shutting you up”, I would have employed this tactic before,” Spock says, sounding slightly breathless. McCoy can feels his pulse quicken even further at that thought. He did that to Spock. Then the words finally make their way through the pleasant fog in his head.

“Oh, you green-blooded little--” McCoy says before surging against Spock and kissing him again, delighting in the way Spock groans and pushes back against him.

McCoy's back hits the wall a moment later, Spock's hot body covering his own. He has a momentary flashback to holding Spock's motionless, unconscious body in his arms and the memory is enough to make his heart squeeze in panic again. McCoy holds onto Spock tightly, kissing every bit of skin he can reach as Spock's hands sneak under his clothes, the hot fingers trembling against skin.


End file.
